A Decidedly Un-Pink Romance
by FelixFelicis13
Summary: This story was written for a dare - to write 1000 words of an 'intimate' Snape/OC oneshot while still keeping it rated PG. Not very romantic, but feel free to read it if you want!


**A/N: This oneshot was written as a joke, a response to a challenge given by my friend, who challenged me to write a 1000 word 'intimate' oneshot between Snape and an OC (the OC being my friend). I wanted to make it PG to PG-13 as an extra challenge, and this was the result. A very un-romantic commentary on a Snape/OC encounter by a pink Pygmy Puff.**

A Decidedly Un- Pink Romance

I sat on the table across from the bed, fluffing up my fur to stay warm as the chilly breeze clattered in through the window my owner, Lily, left open in her haste to meet that greasy black-haired one that visits so often. Why she would want to spend time with him, when there are cute, fluffy, and above all, pink creatures like me she could be spending time with instead is completely beyond whatever brain power the mutating of my species from puffskeins has allowed.

I was in the midst of these philosophical musings when the door to the room banged open most unceremoniously, causing me to jump in my cage, upsetting the almost empty water dish I sat across from. I squeaked in alarm as the pool of water spreads beneath my paws, so anxious to keep my soft fluffy fur its usual dry shade of hot rose that I nearly missed my owner and the greasy one beginning to attempt to eat each other. This, however, nearly distracted me from my plight.

Why on earth should they be looking for fresh meat when they kept all that food in a the cold white thing already? Both of their attempts seemed to be in vain, however, for both of them seemed unharmed, despite their violent attempts to eat each other, mouth first. Weirdly, they seemed to actually be enjoying it.

My thoughts were distracted for a few moments by the water soakings the bottom layer of my fur, and I barely held back another squeak, hopping on top of my food dish for safety. Once I was assured of the continuing cuteness of the rest of my fur, however, I returned my attention to the weird and violent ritual my owner and her odd playmate seemed to be engaged in.

They were both tearing off each other's fur, for one, revealing disgustingly pale and slimy bodies. Was this some odd attempt to make the other die of cold? While that persistent breeze certainly was chilling, it hardly seemed the best way to capture a meal. While they attempted these attacks they both also persisted in continuing the cannibalism.

I shook my head slightly in frustration, fluffing out my fur in an attempt to dry the still wet bottom layers. _Stupid water bowl. Silly humans. They really are completely crazy_.

My owner continued her vicious attacks, scratching at the greasy one, who returned with equal venom and vigor. Their physical attacks increased to the point that I felt the need to turn away, for what Pygmy Puff can retain their cuteness after their sensibilities have been ruined by their own owner viciously skinning and attempting to eat their close companion? For some reason, though, this weird and messed up ritual was interesting enough that I decided to keep watching.

They grunted in anger as they wrestled back and forth, rolling up and down on Lily's square nest. And yes, they were still trying to eat each other, the whole time. I heard the greasy one quietly say something to my owner. Something like' "How are we going to tell them?"

At this, I had a realization. I knew what this weird, skinless, and mostly ineffectual ritual was about! It was like how in our fuzzherds, the two fluffiest and cutest puffs have a contest to see who'll be the head furball! One of them, most likely the annoying greasy one, was trying to steal leadership from Lily of the human version of a fuzzherd! That's why it took place on the human nest, and they weirdly skinned each other before commencing with the fight, as well as uselessly gnaw at each other throughout the whole fight.. They were trying to determine who was stronger, and should be the head furball of their fuzzherd! That's what all the weird noises were about too...

Suddenly, Lily screamed. I jumped, falling off my perch on the food bowl and into the puddle of water below, thoroughly drenching one side of my lovely pink fur. I hissed in annoyance, scrambling to my feet, but then I promptly fell down again, this time soaking the other side through. Of course, this was the moment that yet another huge gust of freezing air swept through the still open window, and my teeth chattered as I shivered violently. Their ritual thing was all well and good, but they had no call for making me uncomfortable like this.

As if they had heard my unspoken squeaks, they slowed their noisy fight, inside taking turns to mutter long strings of completely unintelligible humansqueak. Maybe this was stage two of the ritual, figuring out who was better-spoken, or something? As annoying as all this disturbance was, it certainly was interesting to try to decipher humans' completely unorthodox, confusing, and impractical culture. They finally broke off their long strings of muttered squeaks and went back to furiously attempting to eat the other, the greasy one holding Lily tightly so she couldn't escape their battle.

I noticed that my fur had started to dry, though tiny ice crystals had started to form at the ends, and shook it out, jumping up and down to warm up. Grabbing a nibble from the food bowl I sat on top of, and fluffed out my fur one more time before returning my attention to my owner, who was now going through the same boring eating, clawing, and wrestling thing again.

 _Wow, this ritual is weird, but really repetitive. Head Furball rituals are better than that._

As it went on, I absentmindedly continued my attempts to dry out my f faster, ignoring the odd sounds in the background. I had recently heard that there was more of a rage for purple Pygmy Puffs than their obviously superior pink counterparts and it worried me, a far more pressing issue than whatever my owner and her cursed companion competitor got up to. As I mentioned before, who would spend hair with that thing, completely devoid of the color pink at all times, then with me? She could be so confusing sometimes.

Both of their attacks started dying down, they were obviously getting tired, and they huddled together and closed their eyes, going to sleep furless in that weird way humans sometimes do. I was curious to figure out who won the fight ritual - Lily or greasy? - but still found it a completely minor issue compared to Pygmy Puff Color Catastrophe.

Finally able to drift off to sleep in the quieter atmosphere, my thoughts filled with all the reasons pink Pygmy Puffs are infinitely better than purple ones.


End file.
